Wednesday, August 10, 2016

The Way it Was Meant to be

The Visit

Tomorrow is the day my cousins do the cemetery run.  It is something they have always done. Actually, there was a time when all the aunts went "to visit".  Early on they went to visit their parents, who buried in New Jersey, Long Island, way out on Long Island, and Newburgh NY. As time passed, so did the husbands and the siblings. And the number of the visitors dwindled. But still they went to every cemetery to visit everyone resting in peace.  You may wonder what they do when they get there. What does anyone do at a graveside.  If you are Jewish you don't leave flowers. You leave a memorial stone. And if you are my family you say a prayer -- at every grave.

This burial thing has always been an issue with me.  My mother told me that she would consider not being buried on the Island.  But then my dad had his leg chopped off and it got buried on Long Island -- Beth Something.  I asked her why she had decided to do this. It happens I know that the whole body has to be buried in one place and cannot be moved. She said that we would never come to visit so it didn't matter. But of course, I always go to visit. And what a pain in the ass, but let's be honest, when she made that decision it was not without thought. The irony is that her whole life she wanted nothing more than to be with her sisters. And in death, she sleeps forever with people who she never even liked -- except my dad.  When it snows or is incredibly hot, I still worry that my mother is not comfortable.

People get to decide their own fate.  So she did what she wanted to do knowing that the cousins would visit for as long as they could.  Here's the thing.  We have decided to be cremated. I want to be cremated like a cholent, with onions and carrots and potatoes and seasoning.  David doesn't care about the seasoning.  I want my ashes to be put into film cans and anyone that wants to be part of my ceremony should release my ashes in whatever place they would remember me.  I don't want anyone to have to come to a place to have an in depth conversation with me. And whenever I visit my parents,  I do have lengthy conversation with them.  It usually
starts this way, "Maaaa, where are you when I need you to answer important life death questions. Like, are you still playing cards with the aunts?"

It gives me comfort to know that my cousins are checking to make sure everything in the cemetery is in order.  Dad has perennial care but I pay for Mom yearly because when I,m gone there is no one else who will go, and the cemetery, (whether you have care through eternity or  yearly care) doesn't take care of the graves, unless they are right in the front-- which we are not.

I feel sure my cousins Lovey and Suzy will send my love and do all the right things. And at some point I will get there to ask  more questions that go unanswered. But that's the way it was meant to be. And yes Ma, I always feel guilty, and that's the way it was meant to be.  We're Just Sayin'....Iris

1 comment:

Anthony DeCristofaro said...

Dear David and Iris,

Pardon me for posting/sending a question not related to the topic of this blog entry. However, was L’Homme Sans Gravit√© (2015) ever published in English? As a photo book, I am happy to buy the French version -- Ms. Catherwood my eighth-grade French teacher would be pleased that I would do something so daring. However, if your publisher will be bringing out an English language edition after the exhibit closes, I might hold off.

Although buying the foreign language version of a book even though I am not fluent is something I do on occasion. It was kind of cool to have Serenissima: Venice in Winter by Frank Van Riper in the Italian edition. :-)

No need to publish this comment after you moderate it. But inquiring minds want to know. Feel free to respond by e-mail to yourdailytripod at gmail dot com

Tony DeCristofaro